


a good monster

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fools in Love, Future Fic, Grant Ward Is A Villain, Implied/Referenced Torture, Nightmare Fuel, POV Phil Coulson, Protectiveness, Raina and Ward team up, Skye is a monster, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Ward is a Nazi, but mostly cuddling, but that's okay, for evil purposes, i don't know what this is i just wrote it on a whim, skye's powers, spur of the moment fic, the villains always know, unconvenient urges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 00:49:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2046729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raina and Ward come up with a predictable way of awakening Skye's powers but when they get more than they bargained for Coulson and Skye have to deal with the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a good monster

"Coulson. Explain."

May stops him from following Skye into the lab. He doesn't want to leave her alone but he knows he needs to tell May at least the bare minimum.

"What happened to her?" she asks.

"I don't know."

"Phil."

"I don't."

He doesn't. Skye covered in blood, like something out of a Dario Argento movie. He was miraculously unhurt and he _felt it_ , Skye's fear like a sound wave, surrounding and protecting him and – and punishing the others. He could feel she wasn't doing it consciously, and she probably knows less about what has happened than he does. She's probably more freaked out than he is and that's saying something.

She's just there, in the lab, looking numb, waiting for Coulson because he said _wait for me here_ and the blood has already dried.

The blood is not her enemy's, he knows this.

"Now I know why the people who rescued Skye found the baby covered in blood," he tells May, making the connection for the first time. "It was her powers."

May looks through the lab door to the still, red figure of Skye.

"Ward and -?"

"Raina? In the hospital. We are going to need people to guard them."

May nods and Coulson feels relieved that he can leave the arrangements in her hands.

"Did she do that?"

"I _can't_ explain."

For once May seems to accept his desperation without pressuring him.

"Do you need me to get the plane ready?" she asks instead.

"No. We are staying here tonight. There are some answers we still need to get from those two."

 

 

&

"Am I hurt?" she asks. "I felt the cuts but... there's nothing."

Coulson takes her arm in his. He saw the cuts, too. Even if he's not clear on the chain of events he saw the cuts clearly. And all this blood dried on Skye's body and clothes, it has to come from somewhere. But he checks and checks again, feverishly, running his fingers along the inside of her arm with impatience and tenderness and he can't feel any cut, any wound at all. No scar either, no scabbing. It's like it never happened. Like it was just the nightmare it looked like.

"How can it be?" she asks, realizing he can't find anything either, voice high in panic, shaking in Coulson's hands.

"I don't know. But we have to get you cleaned."

And warm, he thinks, feeling her cold hand grips his wrist as he follows her upstairs.

 

 

&

"No," he says, when she takes a tentative step towards the bathroom. "Use my shower. Come."

She hesitates and he doesn't want to press but – bigger space, more private, and the water takes less time to warm up. And he wants to be near. And he wants her to be protected by the walls of his office. For her, not because he wants to protect the rest. He won't think of Skye as something dangerous, something to be contained. He imagines she has enough of that in her own mind, and she'll have enough of that from other people, in days to come.

"Did Ward hurt you?" she asks him all of the sudden.

"No, no. You... Don't you remember?"

Skye looks absent for a moment, like she really doesn't remember at all, like she's not quite sure where she is at this moment and then, when she meets Coulson's eyes again, very alert: "I remember everything."

She finally agrees and lets herself be led to his office.

 

 

&

"I think I've ruined your towels," she says. "I'm sorry."

He told her he would be out here, door ajar, in case she needed something.

He watches her come out of the bathroom, looking disturbingly small in his bathrobe, adjusting the belt nervously.

"Don't worry about the towels," he tells her.

She is not looking at him.

She is still shaking very slightly, like she was after – after what ever that was that happened in Raina's lab. 

She still looks unfairly alone, like she had looked strapped to that table as Raina explained to him what the experiments meant.

Coulson still wants to help her and is still completely useless. He can only watch.

He can only watch her.

Still looking like there's something utterly wrong with her.

 

 

&

"Am I monster?" she asks him, lying on her side, under the covers of his bed.

Coulson goes to her. He knows it's wrong and inappropriate but he climbs into it with her and wraps one arm around her frame. He knows he shouldn't make her feel like she's vulnerable and something to be protected. But he needs her to have some human contact right now, some reminder that she is not a thing, dangerous and untouchable – he wants to tell her he's not afraid of her, and he does by letting her fold her body carefully and shyly into his embrace. She sighs when she realizes he is not pulling back from her greedy grip on his body.

"No, of course you're not," he tells her. "And if you are, then that means there must be good monsters."

She runs one hand over his chest, resting over the knot of his tie. She looks worried all of the sudden and Coulson can feel her body starting to slip away from him.

"I don't want to hurt you."

She says that, but then she twists her hand into his shirt further.

He drops his hand to her waist and squeezes her against him. She needs to know he feels safe when he is with her.

"You are not going to hurt me. I think you proved that today."

"I don't want to hurt _anyone_. Not even Raina. Not even... Ward."

"We'll figure this out," he says, wishing he sounds at least as half as convinced as he thinks he should. "We will."

Skye doesn't meet his eyes. She presses her lips againt his shoulder instead.

"Please, tell me I didn't kill anyone back there."

She still speaks like she is not sure what happened.

"You didn't kill anyone," he says. "I promise you."

Skye falls asleep shortly after, face fitting into the curve of Coulson's neck. He knows he has to leave immediately or he will never leave. It takes a bit of effort to disentangle himself from her sleeping form and part of him doesn't want to – not just for herself, because he wants to give her something, this something at least, if she needs it. But he seems to need it as well, to an extent that it baffles him, the intesity with which his body welcomes Skye's warmth as she presses herself unconsciously against him. Everything smells of blood still, but the warmth is good, and her wet hair against his face and the noise of her breathing in and breathing out, alive and miraculously unharmed. She smells of his shampoo, underneath it all.

 

 

&

He explains it to May.

" _Explain_ might be an overstatement here," Coulson tells her with a tired smile. And he's only now realizing how tired he really is. A fun day of kidnapping, torture and baroque horror. But he can't rest yet. He felt so guiltily good there in his bed cradling Skye in his arms. He could have fallen asleep and he bets he would have had a dreamless night, a nightmare-less night. But that would have been selfish and useless and he needs to be useful right now.

He tells it the best he can, which isn't good at all. Both him and Skye walking blindly into the trap, and the experiment, Raina's mystical explanation he didn't understand through the sound of Skye being hurt. Raina's frustration at the lack of results, Ward's quiet smirk at having Coulson in his grip. He had wanted to ask what the fuck Ward was hoping to find in all this, but he was too afraid of the actual answer. For the first time ever he was actually scared of Ward. This part Coulson omits when he tells the story to May. He omits many bits, actually, mostly his own fear and uselessness. Perhaps May can smell it on him already. He'll just be happy never having to tell what happened today to anyone else.

"How long have we been gone?" May tells him. "If feels longer. Or it doesn't, I don't know."

"Are you hurt?" May asks, a bit too late.

Coulson chuckles. "We are both incomprehensibly unscathed."

He checked not just the cuts, but the the marks of the needles in Skye's arms. Nothing. That, more than anything, terrifies him. He is completely unequipped to help in this. And the only people who are equipped to deal with it are villains.

May takes her time processing what he's told her.

"You think that's what happened when she was a baby?" she asks. "She was trying to kill the monsters who set fire to her village?"

"Or she was trying to protect the villagers," Coulson corrects her, because he'd rather think about how he is alive because of Skye today than about the deathly possibilities of her fear. He doesn't want to think about Raina's expression of delight even as she was being attacked, sliced into.

"She protected you today?"

"Ward pulled a gun on me. That's when –" he doesn't want to finish, doesn't want to examine the ramifications, or his own role in the disaster. "I could feel it."

May looks away, tilting her head at his words. "She might be alien but there's something predictably human about that."

"May, please. Let's not. Not tonight."

She nods.

He needs to do something. Now that Skye is not in immediate danger, now that she is safe and wrapped in his clothes inside his bed, Coulson feels compelled to do something more, something _real_.

"I need to find answers for her," he tells May. She must understand the necessity of actions better than anyone. "I need to interrogate Raina. It looked like she knew what was going to happen. I need to get some explanation for Skye."

"Yes, and you'll do all those things. _Tomorrow_."

"I don't have time to waste."

"The thing you want to punch," May says, "is not out there."

No, he thinks. It's running through her veins. And then he hates himself for the image.

He raises an eyebrow at May. "You of all people are going to tell me to stay still?"

"If that's what Skye needs."

"Skye needs me to react."

May wraps her fingers around his arm.

"Listen to me, Phil. I don't really know what happened to you two today, or what they were trying to do to Skye. I don't know what she is. But I've spent every morning of the past five months training with that girl and I've come to learn a thing or two about her. I know she'd want you to stay with her tonight."

Coulson purses his lips together, suddenly very afraid of crying in front of Melinda May and that would just round up his whole day.

"I know that too," he confesses, eventually, when he knows he can trust his voice.

 

 

&

He pushes his chair next to the bed, heeding May's advice and just being here with Skye. She seems to be sleeping peacefully, tiny snoring noises. Coulson prays for no nightmares. Though what nightmares could any of them have after today is beyond his imagination. Replays maybe. Nothing worse than what's already inside their heads.

At some point Skye wakes up again.

Coulson knows he hasn't got any rest himself because he finds he is staring at her when she props herself on one elbow and gives him a questioning look.

"Why are you over there?" she asks.

"I didn't want you to wake up somewhere strange and find me... I didn't know if you would be okay with it. It might upset you."

"Come back here. Please."

He gives her a sad smile but he obeys.

He finds it disturbing how easily he can maneuver himself to fit his body into the spaces and hollows of hers, how quickly he has Skye tucked under his chin and his hand is already drawing lazy circles on her back. It feels less wrong and less inappropriate than before, maybe because he is tired, maybe because May is right – he can't pretend he doesn't know the things he knows about Skye. He can't pretend he doesn't know the things he knows about himself. He hates the fact that _Grant Ward_ of all people tried to use him against Skye, it makes him grit his teeth, but at the same time he understands why he did it.

"Maybe I can learn to control it," Skye is saying, two steps ahead of the whole thing and already trying to be something better.

"I'm confident you will."

"I don't want to be that thing again."

He shakes his head, appreciating Skye's resolved face. She's terrified yet she's gone back to being quintessentially Skye; she sees the problem and she sets out to fix it, trusting there's something inside her which could. She doesn't need anyone else, just that resolve against a world which can't seem to accommodate her principles. She's not a red-covered avenging angel. Neither is she a tiny trembling victim washing off her own blood in Coulson's shower. This is how she does it. This how Skye can take calamity better (or worse) than anyone else he has ever known.

She holds her arm up to the tenuous light of the monitor over their heads.

He knows what she is looking for.

"No scars..." she mutters. "I didn't think I'd wish for more scars but... this is too creepy."

Coulson lifts his own hand, wrapping his fingers around Skye's forearm. He caresses the tender skin, remembering the vividness of the wounds that never were or so it seems. It is creepy but Coulson can't agree with Skye; he can't wish for more scars on her body. Even if this makes her a monster.

When he lets her arm go he turns to find Skye looking very intently into his eyes.

He is about to ask if she is okay (he hasn't asked that question at all) when she moves her body against his and closes her mouth over his.

It's not just her mouth, pushing and demanding, her hands too, are everywhere, hesitating and nervous, unsure of where Coulson will let her touch him, afraid to break the kiss to see what she's actually doing. He takes Skye's hand and places it over the curve of his hipbone. He started kissing back a long time ago, as soon as she touched him.

Right now he wants nothing but this, Skye's grip on his waist, pulling him towards her, pressing herself against the length of him until he can feel, and she can feel. He realizes how long he has been holding back on what he really feels for Skye when he lets out a pathetic moan of satisfaction when her knee slips between his thighs.

But that's as far he can let it go and suddenly he remembers this.

Suddenly he remembers why he is here, he remembers he is supposed to be comforting Skye, not taking advantage of her.

He pulls away a little too fast.

"Skye. No."

" _No_?"

She looks at him bewildered, and ashamed.

He puts his hand on her shoulder, because he knows Skye's first most prevalent instinct is to get up and flee. Maybe he can explain.

"I'm sorry," she says. She is still struggling against him, trying to retreat.

"Don't apologize."

"But you didn't want it," she says.

Coulson could laugh at that. Or cry. For Skye's sake he tries to do neither.

"You've gone through a huge amount of trauma today," he says.

Skye lets her head fall over his shoulder.

"Yes," she says, quietly, into the fabric of his shirt. Coulson can tell she has her eyes closed. "And I don't think I can deal with the trauma of you rejecting me tonight. Just – don't say anything. Do that another day."

This is not the day where he will start lying to Skye so he brushes his fingertips across her cheek to get her attention.

"You're never going to have to deal with me rejecting you, I can tell you that," he says.

He leans over and kisses her mouth slowly, gently. She barely moves at the contact at first, waiting to see what he does, how far he will go. Far enough. He deepens the kiss a bit, takes a moment to feel things _for himself_. He wants to tell her that he felt it, when she protected him, in her own way. But it's too soon. She is not ready yet to separate catastrophe from cause. And he is not ready to want what he wants.

But the noise Skye makes when she opens her mouth under him is almost enough to make him forget that.

He sighs against her again and takes his time exploring and slowling it down until he can break the kiss without it looking like he is pulling away again.

Skye bites his lower lip as she waits for him to say something – she expects a rejection, for sure, despite his promises. He presses his thumb against her chin.

"But that's all I can give you tonight." Skye frowns, childishly, and it's almost enough to make Coulson forget the day's carnage and convince him that this is almost normal, this moment between them. "Or I'd feel like I was doing something wrong..."

Skye seems like she is going to protest (and she _should_ , just not tonight – Coulson is not sure his resolve will be the same tomorrow) but then she seems to understand, or at least respect it. Skye has her feelings on the matter, but so does Coulson. He wants this, but he doesn't want it stained by rush or bad memories.

"But you are going to stay with me. Right?"

He slips his arm further up her back and pulls her closer. The sound of the sheets slipping around him is almost too mundane to bear. 

"If you want."

She nods, maybe too quickly. Coulson feels a pang of guilt. She settles back into his arms, a bit awkwardly this time; they can no longer pretend this is completely chaste or completely about comfort. He tried, he swears. But it was never going to be completely about something else. It was always going to be about _this_.

Her breathing evens out, relaxes in short sighs, and Coulson feels himself relaxing too. It doesn't stop being awkward, and it doesn't stop being filled with tension, with yearning for something else (Skye's hips angling for him, the way his own fingers dart so dangerously across her ribcage wanting for the robe belt until he has to force himself to raise his hand to her face again), but it's better and – most importantly – is what they both need.

Because Coulson realizes this is not just about what Skye needs, even though that's the only part he cares about right now.

(There's a reason why Ward pulled that gun on him.

Coulson understood it even then.)

Today has been about the both of them, him and Skye, as always; they have suffered together, they are in this together, as always. If Skye is dangerous he'll accept the danger, if he is in danger she'll be the shield. 

They need each other. 

Almost as much as they want each other.

But not quite.

"I'm not a monster," he hears Skye say through her teeth.

"No." He pauses, touching his fingers to Skye's hair. "Unless there's such a thing as good monsters."

Skye buries her head against his neck. The brush of the robe's fabric against his skin is comforting.

"I like that," she whispers and Coulson can tell she is about to fall asleep again. "Sounds like a bedtime story I would have liked when I was a kid..."

"A good monster who protects people," he says into her ear.

She twists her fingers into his shirt. Coulson wonders if she is still afraid he'll leave. He shouldn't have left that first time. He makes her the silent promise that he'll never be so foolish again. He presses his mouth against the top of her head, letting her know he's not going anywhere this time.

"I can try to be that," Skye says. "A good monster."

"And if I know you, you'll succeed."

She doesn't have to open her eyes to give him a sleepy smile.

That's the last thing before she is asleep and Coulson feels comforted by the fact that he can still see that smile on her face even in her slumber. She doesn't look at peace – when has she ever – but she looks... better, enough, getting there, strong as always, any variation of these. Skye is always working on the problem, even unconscious.

Coulson lets her hold him in place, welcomes the tight grip over his chest she doesn't loosen even in her sleep.

He lets himself fall asleep right after she does, confident that, in her arms, he won't dream the expected nightmare or relive today's events. He hopes he can do the same for her.


End file.
